Kissing him softly, I shifted so I was able to slide one hand down his bare, hard stomach. When I reached the band on his sleep pants, he pulled his head back, resting against the pillow as he stared up at me. His cheeks heightened in color as I held his gaze and glided my hand under the band. Unsurprisingly, he was already hard when I wrapped my fingers around him.

A deep sound came from the back of Reece’s throat. His eyes remained latched to mine as I worked my hand over him. Just touching him like this made me damp and achy between the thighs. It had never been like that with anyone else and I knew there would never be anyone else.

Reece was for me.

I was for him.

One hand found its way up my borrowed shirt, settling on my hip. Concern clouded the arousal building in his eyes. “Do you think—­?”

“I think it’s the smartest idea ever,” I cut him off.

His hips rose slightly. “Babe, I want you. I always want you, but we don’t have to do this right now. We got time. Lots of time.” His eyes glimmered as I got his bottoms down, exposing him. “And you also had those toys I’m so going to break out one of these days.”

The idea of him using those on me made me all kinds of happy, but unless he had a vibrator stashed somewhere, that fantasy would have to be lived out on a different day. “I want to do this. A lot.”

His lips parted. “Roxy—­”

I cupped him as I squeezed his hard length.

“Fuck,” he grunted out, kicking his head back. “Okay. Perfect idea. Completely. One hundred percent behind whatever you want to do.”

I giggled, but that sound died in a moan as his hand traveled to my breast. It wasn’t long before my undies ended up off, the shirt was lying on the bed next to us and we were joined together. With his hands on my hips and mine pressed against his chest, he let me set the pace and we took our time. This wasn’t about screwing each other’s brains out or doing so to just get off. No. This was all about showing each other how we felt and there was something restorative in that, beautiful and consuming as we moved together. No rush. Just that moment. And when the building pleasure finally peaked, he was right there with me, our bodies shattering and coming back together.

I didn’t move afterward, sprawled out on top of him, my good cheek resting on his chest while he toyed with my hair. “What happened to the streak in your hair?” he asked.

“What?” I was feeling way too lazy and sated to think about his question.

“The purple streak. It’s gone.”